


Tales of Childhood

by songsofrivers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, stannisficartweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsofrivers/pseuds/songsofrivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stannis reads bedtime stories to Renly, written for Stannis FicArt Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Young Stannis has to tell baby Renly a bedtime story because both his parents are away and Robert won’t do it (fanfic, fanart)

Stannis gritted his teeth as the west wing of Storm's End was once again filled with the cries of his baby brother.

His parents had been away in the Free Cities for almost a month, and for almost a month Renly had kept the entire castle up all night with his screaming. The maids took pity on the boy, saying that he cried because he missed his mother desperately.

Stannis felt his fingers curl into a fist. And so do I, but do you hear me wailing?

Still, the maids' pity couldn't console Renly. This was the first time Steffon and Cassana Baratheon had been away from their youngest, who was doted on by all of Storm's End. Being born thirteen years after Stannis, Renly's arrival had been a surprise, but a welcome one nonetheless. Stannis didn't understand it. They already had Robert and himself, why should Renly get all the attention?

Stannis had never liked babies much, and Renly's constant smile and big blue eyes only irritated him further. He did his best to stay away from the child. And now Robert was visiting from the Eyrie as well, and between his younger brother's crying and his older brother's wenching, Stannis was once again wishing the gods hadn't cursed him with these two.

Robert's bedchambers were next to Stannis', and he could hear his older brother banging on the wall in frustration. "Make him shut up!" he bellowed at no one in particular, which of course only made Renly wail even more.

Stannis jammed his head under a pillow and clenched his jaw, waiting for the crying to stop or for sleep to come - whichever came first; neither seemed likely at this point. In the next room, he heard Robert groan and kick something. 

_Be quiet, both of you. I can't stand either of you._

***

Maester Cressen sighed and sat back in his chair, surveying the two older Baratheon brothers.

Robert and Stannis were supposed to be studying - Cressen had them learning the sigils and words of the houses of the Stormlands - but neither could seem to keep their eyes open for long enough to do so. Cressen's quarters were in a different part of the castle, so he wasn't kept up at night by little Renly's crying, but he'd listened to the complaints of both the boys and the servants.

He'd examined Renly, but there seemed to be nothing wrong with the boy. During the day he ate what was given to him and played with his nursemaid. It was only at night that he became a terror.

 _Just a lad who misses his mother,_ Cressen thought.

"Come now, boys." Cressen clapped his hands to rouse them. "Pay attention, if you will. We'll start again. Do you remember the words of House Caron?"

Robert yawned, his head in his hands. "Do I have to be here? I take my lessons in the Eyrie with Maester Colemon."

Cressen knew Robert would rather be in the yard practising his swordplay or jousting, but a future Lord of Storm's End would have to know his bannermen intricately, and Robert did not seem to have much desire for politics. "Whilst you are visiting, you will take your lessons with me, as your lord father commands," Cressen said. "It is important that you learn these things, as dull as they may sound to you."

"No Song So Sweet," Stannis said suddenly. He sat upright in his chair, but his eyes were heavy-lidded.

"Very good, Stannis. And their sigil?"

"Black nightingales on a yellow background," the boy recited wearily.

"Of course Stannis knows them," Robert moaned. "Dull lessons for a dull boy."

"Just because I can _learn_ things, Robert, and you'd rather play at swords - "

"Enough!" Cressen said quickly. The boys were hostile towards each other at the best of times, and their lack of sleep only made them all the more irritable. He aimed to defuse things before they got out of hand. "I received a letter from your lord father this morning."

"Really?" Robert gasped excitedly, and even Stannis seemed to brighten.

"Yes. He and your mother send their love to all three of you. They'll be returning soon. They had no luck finding a bride for the crown prince, but your father writes that they are bringing a fool back here. Apparently he has a lovely voice and a sharp wit, and can juggle too. Your father thinks you will both love him."

Robert grinned broadly, but Stannis scowled.

"I have no time for fools," he said.

Cressen's heart sank, remembering Lord Steffon's words. _Perhaps in time he will even teach Stannis how to laugh._ He desperately hoped that would be the case. Stannis was such a sour boy; Cressen wondered whether he felt happiness at all. He certainly didn't know how to show it.

"Your father thinks you will like this one, Stannis, for he is not like other fools," Cressen replied gently. "Your little brother will be delighted with him as well, I hope."

"Maybe then he'll stop crying," Robert snapped. "Can you make him stop? Give him dreamwine. It helps me sleep."

"Renly is far too young for dreamwine, and he is not unwell enough that I should give him milk of the poppy," said Cressen. "He is just not used to his mother being away from him. My lady often reads to him before bed, if I recall..."

"Mother used to read to us when we were younger," Stannis said quietly, but there was a hint of fondness in his voice that Cressen rarely heard. The maester was struck with an idea.

"Mayhaps one or both of you can read to him tonight. It may help him sleep better."

Robert looked horrified at the very thought. "I'm not reading to him! I'm not our mother! Get his maid to do it."

"His maid can't read," said Stannis. "And neither can you, it seems," he muttered under his breath.

Robert started hitting Stannis and Cressen shook his head, wondering if the Baratheon brothers would ever find a way to get along.

***

The crying started again not long after sundown, when they had eaten dinner in the Great Hall. Soon after Renly had been given his meal, he started screaming as he was taken up to his chambers.

Robert and Stannis both grimaced. The crying was beginning to drive them insane; a constant grating sound that was the same, night in, night out. Even during the daytime Stannis felt the siren-like noise reverbrating in his head.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to get some dreamwine," said Robert. "Anything to stop hearing that little shit."

Stannis put his fork down and pushed his chair back.

"Where are you going?" Robert demanded.

Stannis ignored him and left the hall, heading down the corridor until he found the stairs to the library.

_Maybe Maester Cressen was right. Anything to shut Renly up._

The library was dusty and largely unused - Robert had always loathed reading, and whilst Stannis considered himself an able reader, he didn't see the point in wasting time with stories. But now, he found himself trailing his finger along the lines of leather-bound books, searching for one suitable for Renly.

His eyes fell upon a thick black book with the Targaryen sigil embossed on the spine. On the inside cover the name 'Rhaelle' was written in a childish hand.

 _My grandmother,_ thought Stannis. Sometimes he forgot how closely the Baratheons were related to the Targaryens - his paternal grandmother was long dead, and his father had not inherited her Valyrian looks. Inked into the title page were the words _The History of the Most Ancient and Noble House Targaryen._

 _Can't hurt for Renly to learn some history, I suppose,_ Stannis mused, and carried the book downstairs.

Renly's crying had now developed into a full-blown tantrum. "Mama!" he was screaming. "Want Mama!"

"Mama's not here, Renly, now be quiet," Stannis said sharply from the doorway.

Renly's nursemaid, who was fussing over the child, jumped.

"Leave," Stannis told her. "I'm going to read to him."

Renly stood in his cot, clutching the bars with his chubby little hands. He watched as Stannis lowered himself into the rocking chair beside the cot and opened the book.

"This is a story about House Targaryen," Stannis began. "We are descendants of House Targaryen. Our grandmother was one."

And for the first time in weeks, Renly was not crying. He stared at Stannis for a moment, then raised his arms into the air.

"The Targaryens came to Westeros - what do you want now?"

Renly made grabbing motions with his hands. "Up!"

"You want me to lift you up?"

"Up, up," mimicked the boy.

 _Spoilt brat,_ Stannis thought, but picked Renly up and sat him on his lap anyway, fearing what might happen if his brother started crying again. Stannis selected a chapter and opened the book across his knees.

"This story's about Daeron the Young Dragon. He ruled Westeros over a hundred years ago. They called him the Boy King because he was foolish enough to think he could conquer and hold Dorne."

He doubted Renly understood what he was saying, but his little brother was staring at him attentively, his mouth half-open in wonder.

"Daeron Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Conqueror of Dorne. Son of Aegon the Third. Known as the Young Dragon and the Boy King. Reigned from 157 to 161. Daeron's reign was notable for..."

Stannis broke off and stared down at Renly. Was the boy nearly asleep? He was well on the way, Stannis guessed. Renly's thumb was in his mouth and his head was nodding sporadically.

"With that storytelling, it's no wonder he's gone to sleep."

Stannis looked up upon hearing his brother's voice. Robert leant against the doorframe, his expression one of scorn.

"Playing mother to him, are you?"

"He's asleep, isn't he?" Stannis snapped back.

Robert sighed and turned to leave. "Better you than me."

Stannis tried not to let Robert's words upset him, but he felt his face turning red. In his lap, Renly shifted and mumbled something in his sleep.

Stannis paused, waiting until he was sure Robert was out of earshot before speaking again.

"Soon Mama will be home, Renly, and she will read to you again."

He wrapped his arms around the boy and rocked him back and forth gently.

***

From then on Stannis read to Renly every night. He read to him about the Dance of the Dragons, Aegon's Conquest and the last Storm King, and stories such as Florian and Jonquil, but he was counting down the days until his parents returned from the Free Cities.

So when Ser Harbert came down from the tower one afternoon and announced that the _Windproud_ had been sighted coming into Shipbreaker Bay, Robert and Stannis raced to the seaward side of the castle in order to witness their parents' homecoming.

It was windy outside, and Stannis gathered his cloak around him tightly, looking up at the clouds, which were growing dark. He couldn't decide whether the feeling in his stomach was one of anticipation or worry. He was glad his parents were finally returning, but the bay was treacherous at the best of times, and Ser Harbert said it looked as if a storm was coming.

"We shall pray for their safe return," Cressen had said.

Stannis had never been one for praying, but he was fervently doing so now, his gaze fixed on the stonework of the balcony. _Crone, may your lantern guide my parents safely home..._

Later, he wouldn't remember Robert's horrified shouts, the sound of waves crashing against the castle, Cressen trying to usher the boys inside and shield them from the _Windproud_ going down.

But the image of his parents' ship being swallowed by the sea would be forever lodged in his mind.

***

They never found the bodies of Steffon and Cassana Baratheon.

Stannis was almost grateful for that - he did not want to see what their drowning had turned them into. The _Windproud_ had been shattered to tiny pieces of driftwood that washed up on the beaches of Storm's End for weeks. Among the shipwreck was the fool his parents had brought home, rendered inane by the sea.

"Away, away, come with me beneath the sea, I know, I know, I know," he would sing, running through the halls of Storm's End. Renly dissolved into tears any time he saw Patchface, and Robert was known to punch him on occasion.

 _What does he know?_ Stannis wondered. _Is he trying to tell us of the fate my parents met? Did they go quickly, or did they cling to life upon the wreckage, before they could take no more?_ He tried not to think about the possible manner in which his parents had died, but it was hard not to.

Their funeral was held in the Storm's End cemetery, on a cliff not far from the castle. Their tombstones were freshly engraved, but their graves would remain empty. Robert, the new Lord of Storm's End, stood tall and proud as countless stormlords knelt before him to pay their respects.

"A tragedy of the gods, that this was allowed to happen," he heard one say.

Stannis gritted his teeth and stared at the gravestones of his parents. _If there were gods, they wouldn't have let my parents die. I prayed for them, I did, and I meant it, too._

_Why didn't they hear my prayer?_

***

Renly didn't understand that his parents were not coming back, but he knew something was wrong.

He would shriek in his cot at night, and by day he would run down the halls of the west wing, calling "Mama! Mama!"

Stannis couldn't bear to hear him. He shut himself away in the library, rereading the books he'd brought out to Renly, or in the rookery, walking among the ravens and thinking of Proudwing. He wondered where his goshawk was now. Did she recover and fly away, or did he leave her to die?

Either way, she was as gone to him as his parents were.

Renly continued to cry, and Robert grew impatient with the boy. He would return to the Eyrie soon, but the lordship that had been bestowed upon him at such a young age had made him angry, turning to drink to block out his problems.

It was one night, after Robert had smacked Renly so hard the boy had screamed, that Stannis crept into the nursery with a book in his arms.

Renly stopped crying and the two brothers repeated the process that had almost become a ritual: Renly would lift his arms into the air, and Stannis would pick him up and settle him on his lap.

"This story is about Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Stannis began, turning the book's thick pages. "They say he was the greatest knight who ever lived. Remember I told you we are related to the Targaryens through Father?"

Renly picked up on that. "Papa?" he asked Stannis. "Mama?"

_How do you tell a boy of not quite two years that he'll never see his parents again?_

"Papa and Mama are dead, Renly," he said bluntly. "They're not coming home. They're dead."

Renly began to cry again, and Stannis cursed the tears that clouded his own eyes, rendering the pages unreadable.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this wasn't too OOC - Stannis is such a hard character to write. I wasn't too sure how old Renly was at this point in time, but for the sake of the story he's somewhere between one and two years old. Also, bonus points to anyone who picked up on the Harry Potter reference with the Targaryen book :D


End file.
